Page 95 of The Lost Bones
“About?”
She scrambled for an excuse. “How maybe we can play Jennings and Hamilton against each other. To collect more evidence to bring the whole thing down. Right now, Hamilton is at home strategizing with his team of lawyers while we open an investigation. Nothing is official yet. But do you think Jennings has been stalking you too? It’s just hard to imagine a successful and busy man like him taking the time to do something like that.” She took out her phone. “I’ll call Andrew.”
“Looks like someone’s coming around to the psychologist,” Nick quipped.
“He’s been insightful. And helpful to me.”
“How?”
Awareness ran through her. “I don’t know how to put it, but he puts things into perspective. Like with everything that’s happening… sometimes he’ll say something that will make it all converge. Anyway…”
When Andrew picked up, she updated him on their discovery.
“I see.” He sighed. “If Rafael is behind this, then he must have hired someone to do his dirty work. A man like him wouldn’t get involved personally. I would request a warrant to check off everyone on his payroll.”
“We have him under arrest, so we have a pretty good case to get that.”
“That’s good news. I’m at the station right now, and Peterson just told me that they tracked down some information on that user Mack1987.”
“I’m listening.” Mackenzie straightened and put him on speakerphone for Nick.
“In one of the blogs, Mack1987 discussed your hair, and mentioned a salon called Black Sheep Hair—”
“That’s the salon I go to,” she blurted. It hadn’t been mentioned in the documentary. The revelation shouldn’t have been so sickening, considering she knew that someone obsessed with her had been watching her. But still fear twisted inside her violently.
“They said they intended to check it out—and it seems they have an appointment there in thirty minutes. Shall I meet you there?”
When Mackenzie went quiet, it was Nick who answered, then disconnected the call.
“This is good news, Mack,” he assured her, clamping the wheel harder. “Meanwhile, I’ll ask Jenna to get Jennings’ financial records. We’ve got two solid leads. One of them should pan out, right?”
Mackenzie nodded, trying not to be too hopeful.
By the time they reached the salon, the soft breeze had transformed into a hungry wind trying to rip away leaves from the branches. When Mackenzie stepped out of the car, she had to struggle to close the door behind her. Her hair spilled out of its elastic band, falling on her face. Nick’s tie whipped around, trying to escape his neck. His dark hair played in the wind. The sun was cloaked behind a thick, unmoving layer of clouds, but she still wore her sunglasses, to keep the dirt from peppering into her eyes.
They were ten minutes early. Black Sheep Hair Salon stood in front of them, wedged between an ice-cream store and a print shop. Despite it being the end of the working day, there were only a few vehicles around.
Mackenzie didn’t like it. Everything was gray and gloomy. The air felt brittle. It didn’t feel like Lakemore. Lakemore was usually rainy and stormy; it was turbulent but never hollow. Today, the weather felt soulless.
“Jenna’s on those bank records,” Nick informed her, checking his phone. “She should have something for us in a few hours. I think she’s warming to you. She didn’t ignore you the last time you talked to her.”
Mackenzie leaned against the side of the car. “I think she’s scared of my guardian killer. After Sterling, who’s left?”
Andrew crossed the parking lot, carrying a coffee tray.
“Bless that guy,” Nick muttered. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Andrew smiled and offered the last cup to Mackenzie. “I noticed you’ve been experimenting.”
She took it graciously. “How do you think we’ll recognize Mack1987? We have nothing to go on.”
“Did Peterson pick up anything from the blogs that might help us identify them?” Nick asked.
Andrew shook his head. “He told me that none of the posts offered any personal information.”
“Let’s try our luck.” Mackenzie took a sip of coffee and regretted it.
“You’ll grow to love it.” Nick chuckled, seeing her expression.
